Broken and bruised, unseen scars for proof.
Set off the trigger, and the proof is seen.
Damaged and ruined, yet a living piece under one roof.
All is well is their outside scene.
In need of heal, the scream in me.
No more room for the pain,
And my best I want to be.
Bless me with a liberty from these chains.
Living the dream, the wounds began to heal.
With scars trailing behind, begging for a forget not.
Their presence I see, the memory I feel.
With the feeling, a lesson is brought.
With lessons come wisdom.
And wisdom, the preserver of life.
Destructive in surplus, changing its seeker.
Dissimilar I am now, but not seeking strife.
YOU ARE READING
HeaL
PoetryHeaL, Nothing is too much for time, nothing will ever be. One of the best creations alive. It teaches and moulds us into quite the masterpiece. So much it gives, good and everything in between. One of the best things we can do is to allow oursel...
